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Weekly Contest #98
Growing up on the farm, I loved the summers best of all. Morning sun bathed the land in light. The goats were unruly, always out of line. I was young, young enough not to have many chores. So, I played in the grass and ran through the hills. It was heaven if it were true. How was my childhood, you ask? You really want to know? I wouldn’t be sitting here with a shrink like you if it were idyllic. My childhood was rust, sludge, and machine parts. One that forced me to comb through trash for saleable parts. A dirty up-coming with no one to lo...
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